


Extra Training

by Stegosaur



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Breathplay, Cigars, Gags, Knotting Dildos, M/M, Painplay, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 14:10:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15909837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stegosaur/pseuds/Stegosaur
Summary: Splinter disciplines Michelangelo with some private training.





	Extra Training

“Actually, I’d like Michelangelo to stay behind for additional training tonight.”Michelangelo’s blood ran cold, his chest tightening as Splinter yanked hard on an invisible leash.Letting slip a sharp gasp gave away his anxiety to Leo and Splinter both, his tongue practically tripping itself as he tried to extricate from the impending punishment.

“But Leo needed me to point out some, uh…graffiti!Yeah, I saw some new tags, and he wanted me to show it to him.Y’know, make sure it wasn’t some new gang.”Leo raised an brow suspiciously, which only served to torpedo what little creditability his excuse may have had.Splinter’s expression hardened, which Leo and his siblings took as signal enough for them to leave.

“Yes Sensei.I understand.”Leonardo bowed at the hips while Raphael and Donatello scooted clear of the lair, eager to avoid sharing in their Father’s wrath.Leo lingered after the bow long enough to place a reassuring hand on Mikey’s shoulder, patting it gently.“Next time, Mikey.”

Michelangelo grabbed the hand tightly, his eyes pleading with his elder brother for sanctuary.“W-watch yourself, bro.You’ll be down a soldier tonight.”It was a Hail Mary of a saving throw that came up very, very short.Just as Leo pulled himself away from Mike’s intense grip, Splinter’s own hands had rested on the smaller turtle’s shoulders.

“Go, Leonardo, and take care.I will see you at sunrise.”Michelangelo watched as Leonardo bounded off after his brothers, leaving he and Splinter alone in the lair.He bristled with goosebumps as he felt Splinter’s dominance digging into his shoulders.“Go and prepare, Michelangelo.I expect you in position two in five minutes.”Those furred hands left his shoulders, and the turtle bolted away like lightning.

Preparation for Splinter’s ‘private training’ was simple, yet thorough.A shower to scrub himself from head to toe - two minutes.Thirty seconds to disrobe en route to the bathroom, and another thirty seconds after the shower to stow his clothing in his room.That left him a scant two minutes to make it to Splinter’s room and assume the position instructed in its entirety, lest his punishment become more severe.A mental clock ticked down in his mind as he rushed through the procedures, losing precious time to a restroom detour prior to his shower.Michelangelo’s heart raced as his mental timer ticked ever closer to zero due to his delay, the turtle practically throwing his naked body into Splinter’s room to try and beat the clock.

As he sank onto the mat in the center of the room, he dropped to his knees and folded his ankles over each other, then bent down and pressed his head to the ground.His hands pushed flat against the ground with his elbows bent at a right angle, the downward angle of his upper body meaning the crest of his shell was level with that of his exposed rear.Almost as soon as Michelangelo was in position, a boot fell onto his shell with a firm kick.“You’re three seconds tardy, boy.”

“I apologize for my tardiness, Master!”Michelangelo clapped back, his body shaking slightly as Splinter applied more weight to his shell.

“Your punishment shall be _quadrupled_.”The turtle stifled a whimper, swallowing hard as the familiar touch of leather wrapped around his neck.Splinter’s gloved fingers squeezed at the soft nape, then circled around to his throat and began to clench possessively.“Will you beg for leniency, boy?”

“No Master!I accept my punishment as you see fit, Master!”The eager barks of a slave had been drilled into him by now, and were rewarded by a lifting of the boot from his shell.Splinter guided Michelangelo upright until he could drink in the leather attire worn by his Master for these sessions, a fetish suppressed until his sons were of age.A simple vest hung from the rat’s shoulders, a pair of chaps buckled tight around his hips.A metal cock ring ensured his Master was always prepared to work over his son, with a leather cap perched between Splinter’s ears; a ‘Daddy Cap’, he called it once.The ensemble was completed with a pair of leather gloves covering his hands and combat boots reaching above his shins, everything polished to a beautiful shine.

“That’s my boy.”The grip on Michelangelo’s throat tightened as Splinter bent down, his lips smothering the turtle’s in a fiery kiss.Michelangelo let it happen, ceding control to his Father like an obedient son.He let the rat explore behind his teeth with that long, rough tongue, every nook and cranny claimed with touch before the turtle was finally released.His gloved hand released Michelangelo’s neck and shoved him back to the ground, those heavy boots moving away from the turtle to grab tonight’s accessories.“Tell me, boy.What is the harshest punishment you have endured from me?”

“A two, Master!”Michelangelo had taken great pains not to receive anything more than a standard session from Splinter since the new regimen had been introduced, as the second tier punishment alone had left him walking awkwardly for a week thereafter.If explaining that away to his siblings wasn’t bad enough, his lackluster performance during that week’s sparring matches had earned him three more sessions with his Master.He was literally terrified of what a fourth-tier punishment might bring.

“I see.”Splinter didn’t comment further, dropping a few items on the floor next to Michelangelo.The first was always the collar, a simple leather affair with a locking loop on its rear.The band wrapped around his neck and was cinched into the first notch, Splinter’s gloved hand reaching to squeeze at Michelangelo’s exposed throat again.“One.”The turtle felt the band tighten again, going from loose to snug, clinging to his skin.It wasn’t enough to leave a mark, but was impossible to ignore.“Two.”The collar tightened another notch, this time digging in tight to his skin.It burned as it tugged and dragged against his neck, the rat attempting to wedge a finger between the collar and skin to no avail.“Three.”As Michelangelo felt the collar tighten yet again, it dawned on him what Splinter meant by ‘quadrupled’ earlier.The collar dug in tight against his neck, crushing his throat just enough to obstruct airflow and make swallowing difficult.He felt Splinter lock it into place with a padlock, meaning Michelangelo would have to endure its pain and disability until it was removed.“Four.”

Michelangelo’s body almost immediately began to quake as air was no longer in ready supply, the turtle having to ration his breaths into slow, deliberate cycles of inhaling and exhaling.It took him a moment to adapt to his first piece of gear, though he knew it certainly wouldn’t be his last.“Thank you Master.”He managed to croak out in response to Splinter releasing his grip on the turtle, the rat not bothering with a reply.He instead gripped the turtle’s jaw with one hand and squeezed tight, forcing the jaws apart and opening Michelangelo’s mouth for what came next.A speculum was inserted against his rows of teeth, a set of straps being secured behind his head until the device was rooted firmly inside his maw.

Only then did Splinter depress a lever on the side, a click accompanying a slight, forced parting of his jaws.“One.”Another sharp click forced them wider apart, causing slight discomfort.“Two.”The gradual escalation continued through the third and fourth clicks, leaving Michelangelo’s jaws strained apart rather painfully, the turtle struggling to hold back tears as Splinter inspected the width of the opening.The turtle whined as Splinter found it easy to shove his fingers down to the back of Michelangelo’s throat without issue, smearing the saliva-slicked leather against the turtle’s cheek with a satisfied grunt.“Good boy.”

Michelangelo was unable to respond as his Master guided him upright and pulled his arms behind his back, buckling a set of handcuffs against his wrists until the metal dug in painfully to the skin.A similar set of cuffs then attached around his ankles, Splinter determined to leave markings on the disobedient terrapin this time around.A firm shove sent Michelangelo back to the floor once his limbs had been secured, and it was only now that Splinter moved to the main event.Cold lube drizzled down the crack of his ass before being rubbed and massaged into his skin, two fingers pushing their way inside of him with sudden force.The turtle moaned meekly as he was invaded, eagerly anxious for what came next.

Splinter began pushing a dildo inside of Michelangelo’s rear, the tip spreading his cheeks apart as it glided inside of him.The moans increased in volume as he was stretched around the toy, Splinter halting after just an inch or so with a bemused grin.“One.”The resumption of the countdown jerked Michelangelo back to reality just as the toy was pushed deeper inside of him, the thickness increasing the further it entered.He soon felt the fullness of the tier two toy stretching his anal muscles and forcing him to consciously relax.“Two.”The terrapin’s fear increased as Splinter pushed more of the object inside of him, and his moans turned to whimpers as pain and discomfort replaced the anal pleasure of before.He tried to squirm away as the object pushed deeper into his rectum, stopping after what felt like inches of pain.“Three.”

The old rat didn’t stop when Michelangelo began crying, pushing the last of the dildo - and its knot - past his son’s ring until it popped into place.“Four.”He gave the solid toy a firm smack with his gloved hand, making the turtle jump and whine aloud in discomfort.That hand traced up Michelangelo’s ass and over his shell, giving the handcuffs a tug as he worked his way back up to the head.With the turtle tightly bound and filled from behind, that just left the main course to be enjoyed.

Michelangelo’s body twitched as the various sources of pain competed for attention in his mind, stars showing in his vision as his air supply became weaker from the choking collar.He felt Splinter’s gloved hands lift him back upright and on to his knees again, thick thumbs probing his mouth and rubbing along his teeth.“Do you know why you’re being punished, boy?”Michelangelo could only gurgle in response, and the rat didn’t seem particularly interested in the answer anyway.He instead positioned his erection at Michelangelo’s lips and released his grip on the turtle, gravity doing the rest and sending Michelangelo forward and down over the entire length.He could feel the flesh push past his tongue and down into his throat, firmly cutting off his air supply and replacing it with pre.

“Because you do not take your training seriously.”A hand grabbed at his skull and held him still, Splinter starting to thrust his cock in and out of that warm, tight throat.“You seek escape, or fun.You lack discipline in your studies.”The grip on his head released, and once again he found that cock slipping into and filling his throat.Michelangelo couldn’t even whine or whimper, and lacked leverage to pull himself away.“Let’s see how disciplined you are at managing your air supply.”The rat didn’t move, watching the bound turtle squirm and choke on his cock like the slut he was.Michelangelo’s brain was screaming for air, though the painfully tight bonds made it impossible for him to move backwards.

For all of Michelangelo’s futile efforts to writhe away, Splinter was immensely enjoying himself.Drips of pre fell from his tip and into the turtle’s gullet, saliva pooling over his cock as Michelangelo’s body instinctively went into overdrive from the conflicting sensations.He waited just long enough for his son to panic, then took a single step backward to let Michelangelo fall to the floor.The turtle was gasping for air, all while the rat cast him a disdainful frown.“Disappointing.”

The turtle’s vision was blurry and glittering with starbursts of light as oxygen flowed back to his brain and body, drool spilling from his mouth and onto the floor.He’d never had Splinter treat him so roughly before, but if the erection tucked inside his plastron was any indication, part of him seemed to enjoy the discipline.He didn’t notice his Father departing his side for a moment until the pungent scent of tobacco began filling his nostrils, and his stomach lurched at what was to come next.“Alright boy, let’s begin your punishment.”That gloved hand dug in hard between the choke collar and his neck, dragging the turtle along the floor and choking him of air yet again.Michelangelo kicked and squirmed as he was pulled along like furniture to a nearby chair, Splinter taking his seat and yanking the turtle into position.

This was the fun part, at least.Or it normally would be, if he weren’t so painfully gagged.Splinter kept one hand on his head and another around the cigar in his jaw, and began guiding Michelangelo’s head down along the length of his erection.Splinter put in all the work due to Mike’s bindings, shifting the turtle’s head to and fro as needed to make sure he was hitting the cock in just the right spots.Each thrust pushed the length into Michelangelo’s throat until his beak was smashed against Splinter’s crotch, then yanked back up just enough to let saliva and pre mix together and slick the orifice back up again for another go.

Splinter took a drag on the cigar as he face fucked his youngest son, blowing the smoke up into the air above the smaller turtle toy.For all of his appearances of being a loving, caring Father, there had always been a part of him that just wanted to control a slut like Michelangelo.To abuse and use them as he saw fit, savoring carnal delights and pleasures at their expense.To find Michelangelo had been so receptive to these methods and desires was unexpected, to say the least.

A heavy pull on the cigar accompanied Splinter’s nearing climax, tears steaming from Michelangelo’s face as the pain was borderline unbearable.The hand on his head gripped tightly as it forced him to take the entire length of cock into his mouth and throat, and Michelangelo could feel thick ropes of ejaculate spit down into his stomach.The flesh inside him trembled and twitched with each spurt, the old rat riding out his orgasm with a sigh of contentment.“That’s my boy.”

Even as Splinter rode out his climax, Michelangelo was once again struggling for air.Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long for fresh air this time around as Splinter pulled himself free, wiping his cock clean on the turtle’s cheek.Those gloved hands gripped him by the shoulders and spun him around on the floor, carefully guiding Michelangelo’s body backwards between Splinter’s legs until he was staring almost straight up.He watched his Father lean over him, the cigar’s ash piling up on its end while the embers glowed red.Nothing was said as the rat pinched the cigar in his fingers and tapped it over Michelangelo’s gagged mouth, depositing the ash into the makeshift receptacle.The turtle gurgled spit to prevent the ash from sticking, and swallowed it obediently.

Thus the rest of their night played out as such.Michelangelo would occasionally whimper or squirm in his bonds, and Splinter wouldn’t acknowledge him whatsoever.The rat would tap his old ash into the turtle’s mouth, then resume reading, or relaxing, or whatever he desired with his youngest trapped between his legs.Pain aside, this was what Michelangelo had grown used to: a wholly perverse intimacy of Father and son.

Eventually, the clock in Splinter’s room rang out in a soft alarm of chimes, signaling the end of their session.Michelangelo said nothing as the rat unlocked his cuffs and padlocks, letting the equipment clatter to the floor with a jingle of metal.Guiding the speculum from Michelangelo’s jaw required great care, the turtle’s mouth sore and locked in a painful position from extended stretching.His ass wasn’t much better, and though Splinter took similar care in removing the dildo from his son’s rear, the turtle still couldn’t help but wince in pain as it tugged on dry skin and sticky lube.

As harshly as Splinter treated him, he was never needlessly cruel.The rat carefully picked the weakened turtle up and set him on the bed, cradling his upper body and head against his lap while opening a fresh bottle of water.He fed his son some much needed liquid in slow, careful amounts, Michelangelo making sure not to get greedy or make himself sick.The two remained silent while the turtle recovered in the care of his Father’s arms, at least for a while.Eventually, the aftercare needed to wind down, and Michelangelo and Splinter both needed to play their parts for the returning family members.

“This will hurt slightly.”The rat grabbed Michelangelo’s jaw and applied pressure to its bottom and sides, the bone popping back into place and releasing the locked up muscles.Michelangelo whimpered briefly, then rolled his jaw around and gnashed his teeth.“Better?”

“Yessir.”Michelangelo replied meekly, accompanying the response with a slight nod.

“Good boy.”Splinter held up one of Michelangelo’s wrists for inspection, smiling softly as he turned the wrist around.“This will be difficult to explain.”

“I’m fine.”Michelangelo protested, wagging his limp wrist dismissively.“How long until the guys get back?”

“An hour.”Splinter released his son and climbed off the bed, starting to gather the gear from the night’s proceedings.“You know the drill.Go clean up and climb into bed.Master’s orders.”Michelangelo protested with a whine, the old rat chuckling.“Or do you need more punishment?”

“And what if I do?”

Splinter laughed aloud.“Such a glutton.But I don’t think your boyfriend would approve, Michelangelo, if I kept you to myself.”The smaller turtle sighed, defeated.Splinter was right, as always.He pulled himself off the bed with no shortage of wincing and grunting, his body wracked with discomfort after the night’s abuse.“Do not forget to set your alarm for training tomorrow.Bright and early.”

Michelangelo groaned in genuine protest, slumping as he reached the bedroom door to the lair.“Goodnight, Sensei.”

Splinter smiled.“Goodnight, Michelangelo.”


End file.
